(Please note: although this piece is published as part of my professional blog, this is a very personal post. In addition to professional advice regarding positive interaction with teens during this difficult time, my comments also reflect my experiences of the past few days, and my personal feelings and beliefs.)

I woke this morning to the unexpected sound of footsteps: my 14 year-old, typically dead to the world at 6:00am, roaming the house; having attempted scrambled eggs and toast, was schlepping his tea to the front porch.

Plunged back into ‘olden’, toddler days, I was instantly awake and up: groggy but not admitting it, on high alert - what was wrong, what was happening: what did he need?

As it turns out, all he needed was the space to feel, to talk and to be angry. After I took a brief ‘time out’ to make much needed coffee, I took a breath, downgraded my parental alarm system to ‘low risk’, and sat with my kid on our porch, surrounded by the rain and the breaking dawn…

In fact, he was not up early - he’d not yet been to bed. Given our very flexible COVID-19 schedule, he’s used to seeing the far side of midnight, but all-nighters are not the norm. Why then, was he experiencing that gritty, slightly hallucinogenic experience of greeting a new day without sleep?

He told me: videos. Specifically Tiktok videos, chronicling the civil unrest in the United States over the past few days. More specifically: example after example of brutality in the face of peaceful protest, and the demonstration of systemic racism against the backdrop of white privilege.

Full transparency: my kid could be the poster child for white (male) privilege. From an educated, solidly middle class family, he is a CIS white male. He has never experienced racism or what it must feel like to be a racialized Canadian. He has never experienced societal danger aimed at his person, and despite his physical maturity (5’10’ and 175 lbs at 14), no one crosses the street when he walks towards them; no one assumes he is a ‘trouble-maker’. We travel a lot: no matter where we are, he is always given the benefit of the doubt.

This morning, he was my 14 year-old son responding to the grief and brutality social media has made profoundly accessible with outrage, anger and a sense of betrayal.

As I started this post, we were collectively reeling from George Floyd’s murder. Since then, we have seen an international mobilization against anti-black racism - extensive protests have been held in our hometown of Toronto - fitting in a city known for its ‘multiculturalism’. But, please don’t misunderstand me: we live in a province whose premier recently asserted that there is no ‘systemic racism’ in Canada. To me, the fact he felt he could say that proves the exact opposite. Systemic racism is not confined to the United States. Systemic racism is alive and well in Canada. And for those of us who benefit from white privilege, difficult conversations are way, way, overdue

The point of this post? Please, please, talk to your kids. Listen to them, even if what they are saying doesn’t quite fit your world view. Even if, in their natural impulsivity and naivete, their approach lacks sophistication. Even if they are unable to see ‘the whole picture’. Even if their reactions seem clumsy or extreme to you. This is an incredibly difficult time; these are incredibly difficult topics. Honestly discussing racism (or for that matter, your fear and anxiety surrounding our current reality of COVID-19) will not normalize negativity. It will, however, create space for your kids to feel comfortable discussing hard topics with you - it will solidify a sense of safety and trust that they will be able to carry forward throughout their lives.

And: it will make it possible for them to have those difficult conversations that surely, as a society, we must have.